


Getting Late

by Lliyk



Series: Frostburn [6]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Are We Shocked? No, Begging, Dirty Talk, Dominance, F/M, I Was Not Thinking, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inspired by Music, Minor Canonical Character(s), Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Non-bending AU, Office AU, POV Zuko (Avatar), Phone Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sexting, Some Plot, Texting, What Was I Thinking?, prompted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28710939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lliyk/pseuds/Lliyk
Summary: It’s been a while since he’s played over the phone.Z: Don't be shy, princess. Say exactly what you mean.Undulating gray dots flash in time with his quickened pulse.Kat: I mean that I couldn’t sleep, and that my fingers are a poor substitute for your cock.Kat: Sir.Aw,fuck.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Frostburn [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007067
Comments: 10
Kudos: 105





	Getting Late

**Author's Note:**

> for [anon](https://slpytea.tumblr.com/post/640106286057390080/), who requested _sexting_ in or out of [Lyk Dis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26163724) verse. folks, we have a heading; i picked _in_. for your reading pleasure: [Getting Late by Syd](https://open.spotify.com/track/7MD0vUh6C3AMn1Uh1DNasq?si=7azxuNdATJaVogzgs-p8dQ) on repeat. 
> 
> it’s 4am my pals, beware the typos. comments are fuel ♡.

* * *

Shuttered and locked, the emptiness of Katara’s office haunts him from across the busy cubicle floor. Five days, she has been out of town visiting her brother, on account of becoming an aunt for the first time. Her absence has left him void in a way that nearly frightens him, how stunning it is to realize how integrated she’s become in his life by her leave, but Katara’s brother is her only remaining family. 

Zuko limits very carefully how much he wants for her return. In truth, he struggles entirely to remember how he spent his days before her. 

It’s not that the memory escapes him, it’s just he’d simply rather perish the thought.

 _That_ stuns him, too. 

He pockets the feeling for another time. For now — for the next several hours of his workday, that is — he needs to focus. Tonight the company’s collection of priceless Teo paintings will be moving from storage to the Contemporary Art Museum depository, and he has transportation paperwork to personally finalize.

It isn’t until well past closing hours that Zuko leaves the building, his uncle long gone ahead of him as he has been every day in this past week. It’s been months since Zuko has had such late work days, and he remembers quite vividly — quite constantly — why that is when he finally checks his phone for missed messages upon arriving home.

Kat: _Babies are insane. I want everything and absolutely nothing to do with them ever again._

Kat: _Also, my brother and sister say hello again! For some reason they can always tell when I’m texting you? It’s ALMOST annoying lol._

Kat: _Attachment - 1 Image_

Kat: _Hello from me and the kiddo, too..._

Kat: _Hey. Don’t work too late again, yeah?_

The texts are dated two hours ago. Zuko stands in the middle of his kitchen staring at the picture of twin pairs of brilliant blue eyes, one set finally open proper in comparison to the few photos — Sokka and Suki as proud new parents, Sora bundled in yellow, and then Sora sleeping on Sokka — that he’s been privy to over the last five days, and feels his heart promptly bottom out of his gut.

His throat becomes tight as he stares and stares at light russet skin and the tuft of wild auburn curls, downy and sheen in only the way baby hair tends to be. In the picture Katara holds Sora’s dimpled cheek to her own, their likeness as clear as a moonless night sky, their smiles as blinding as starlight.

Impossible, _impossible_ warmth — arduous, breathtaking, terrifying — spreads through his being. Possibilities; endless; flicker rapidly through his mind.

Fucking hell, Agni help him.

Zuko puts his phone down because he _has_ to, because his blood starts singing _so_ loud and _so_ clear, but he finally gathers himself enough to text her back once he’s ditched his work clothes and popped food into the oven.

 _Hello there Sora_ , he sends out first. Then with the full weight of that impossible warmth:

Z: _Hello, sweet girl. Miss you._

It’s the first he’s actually said it in light of her absence, though he certainly has not been overly subtle about missing her to begin with. Zuko flicks his gaze to the bright green of the stove’s clock; it’s hours past midnight where she is now, and he’s sure that after another long day of helping her family that he won’t hear from her until some time in the afternoon.

Zuko’s phone chimes.

Kat: _Two more days._

Kat: _Shouldn’t you be in bed?_

An amused smile pulls lopsided at his mouth. It’s as close to a direct _I miss you_ _too_ that he’s going to get at this hour — and how _like her_ to instantly prove him wrong. 

Z: _Shouldn't you?_

Kat: _I am. Just couldn’t sleep and Sora’s just been Very fussy. She’s got her dad’s lungs for sure... I needed my headphones_

Kat: _Why are you up so late Zuko?_

 _Couldn’t sleep? 10pm isn’t so late_ , he thinks to reply, but then the oven dings, and he takes a second considering which way to angle his answer before going about his dinner. 

He has her full attention, and he’s not about to lose it.

Z: _Eating_. 

He sends the text just as he takes his first forkful. Then:

Z: _Wishing it was you._

Kat: _Phone out at the table?? Your uncle would be appalled at your manners_

Zuko chuckles. Games, then?

Z: _I see you spent all day with Sokka._

Kat: _Well yeah, but I was thinking about you the whole entire time_

Z: _Were you now?_

Kat: _Quite_.

Kat: _I was thinking about you when you texted me just now, too._

Vixen. Zuko pauses mid bite, his brow rising to his hairline and an expectant, simmering warmth catching flame in his lungs. He sets his fork down.

Z: _Don't be shy, princess. Say exactly what you mean._

Undulating gray dots flash in time with his quickened pulse. 

Kat: _I mean that I couldn’t sleep, and that my fingers are a poor substitute for your cock._

Kat: _Sir_.

Aw, fuck.

Zuko pushes his chair back from the kitchen table, the legs scraping minutely across the glossy tile in his haste. Already, heat pulls heavily at his gut; a syrupy, roiling feeling that ripples from his lungs to his heart as he stares at the phone screen.

The admittance stirs him — masturbating to sleep, sure — but was she really getting off to _him_ , or was she being a brat? 

Z: _Show me._

The reply comes so quickly his head spins.

Kat: _Attachment - 1 Image_

Aw, _fuck_.

Zuko stares, dumbstruck and increasingly hungry at the picture on his screen. In soft lighting, a blatant shot of the soaked through panties covering her sex, delicate fingers, resting at the imprint of her clit, her knuckles cloaked by the hem of what is clearly one of _his_ sweaters...

For the longest of seconds his mind blanks. Not a brat, no, but really, actually wearing his clothes and touching herself. Touching herself to _him_ , because even if she won’t say it, she so _clearly_ misses him too.

A broken groan vibrates out of Zuko, loud in his empty house. Sharp, needy stings of desire bead down his spine, his blood singing south with a dizzying quickness as he imagines all the ways to drag the words out of her before the night is over. 

Z: _Did you finish, Katara?_

Kat: _I would have..._

His bottom lip finds its way between his teeth as his thumb flies across the phone screen.

Z: _Good._

Zuko catches only a glimpse of the response she sends, a little row of words ending in upside down question marks; he’s too busy leaving his phone to hastily shove two extra forkfuls of food in his mouth and wash it down. He slips his plate into the microwave and clears out of the kitchen in record time, excitement thrumming brightly in his veins.

It’s been a while since he’s played over the phone with Katara, but something about this particular time feels different. There is a clarity washing through him, something electric and hot that makes him beyond eager. He darts quickly through the house, mind miles ahead on how he is going to take that girl — _his_ girl, apart with his voice alone.

Stripped from his sweats and tee, Zuko sits comfortably in the middle of his bed, swipes at Katara’s name on his phone, and watches the line ring as he puts it on speaker. She answers almost instantly, and that impossible warmth returns to him at the sound of her voice.

“Yes?”

“Yes _what?_ ” Zuko demands instantly, toying with the hem of his boxers as he lays back and rests the phone by his head. Katara’s breath hitches, sending soft static over the line. 

“Yes, _sir_.”

Fuck fuck _fuck,_ he’s missed that. “ _Katara_ ,” he rumbles her name with a low, wanting lilt as he palms his aching cock. “tell me you’re still wet for me. Tell me you’re still wearing my clothes.”

“I am,” she breathes, always, _always_ just as eager. “I am, I am.”

“Are you touching yourself, Katara?”

“No,” she whines. “but I’m gonna.”

“Do exactly as I say?” Zuko finishes for her. “Yes, you will.” 

“And how do you know that I will?” Katara shoots back.

“Because you’re a good girl,” he rumbles, a smirk pulling at his mouth. “aren’t you?”

“Am not.”

“Yeah. You are.” Zuko tells her, light and quiet now. Another tiny whine reaches his ears. “Run your hands up your sides for me Katara. Do what I can’t.”

A mewl this time, and the needy sound sends bolts of pleasure straight down his spine.

“Your hands are mine,” he continues, voice kept low as he pictures her in his mind's eye — every lithe muscle under the smooth expanse of her umber skin, every curve, the feel of her body under his and arching against him, the sight of her bright ocean eyes looking up at him. A groan starts in his throat. “and I want my hands everywhere. _Everywhere_. On your hips. Over your waist. One busy with tweaking your nipples and the other around your neck.”

Katara lets out a stuttered gasp. “ _Zuko_.”

“ _Yeah_.” Zuko shoves his boxers all the way down and grips his cock at the base with a hiss. “I knew you’d be good for me, Kat.”

“ _Zuko_...”

Twice in the span of a single moment. “Knew you missed me, too.” He lets out a rumbling chuckle as he slowly begins to stroke himself, but he quickly quiets at the familiar little hum of desperation that Katara makes. “Go ahead, Kat. Touch yourself for me. I want those fingers dripping wet when I’m done with you.”

A muttered curse sounds down the line. “Slow circles,” Zuko tells her. “featherlight until I say so. Understand?”

“ _Yes,_ sir _._ ” Katara moans, the pitch muffled. “Your voice... Oh, _fuck_.”

“As _soon_ as you get home princess,” Zuko drawls the promise, continuing his strokes in earnest now that he’s sure he’s got Katara wrapped around his finger. “anywhere you want. However you want. Gonna fuck you _good_ , too. You have _no_ idea.”

“Tell me,” Katara gasps. “tell me, please—”

“Faster.” Zuko snaps the command instead, pleasure singing through him at the sound of her coming undone so easily under his instruction. “Clit only, Kat.”

A long, high moan, half muffled and half lost to the telling static sound of increased movement. Zuko lets out his own gasp in reaction to Katara succumbing to his whims, his cock swollen red and starting to leak. Heat coils heavily in the pit of his loins. _Agni_ , High Above he cannot wait to put his hands on her. 

“Zuko,” Katara babbles his name out in a breathy litany. “Zuko, Zuko, _Zuko_.”

“You’ll be saying my name just like that when I fuck you, Kitten. Just like that,” Zuko growls, daring to flick his wrist and tighten his palm over his sensitive head. “when I sink my cock into that tight, wet, _perfect_ little pussy of yours.”

“Fuck—”

“ _Yes_ ,” Zuko’s growl tapers into a deep chuckle. “very good. That’s _right_ , Kat—”

“ _—Zuko—_ ”

“—push your panties aside for me baby,” Zuko’s breath hitches over the words, a groan working its way out of him in time with the mewl Katara lets out over the phone. “two fingers in. In. In, in, _in—_ ”

Another muffled cry of his name, and Zuko just _knows_ she followed his demands perfectly; the image of her rebuilds in his mind in a matter of seconds. Katara, on her back with his sweater rucked halfway up her body, breasts exposed; nipples hardened, her legs spread wide and the corner of a pillow caught tightly between her teeth...

“ _La,_ Zuko,” Katara’s cry is breathless. “please, _please_.”

“ _Fuck_ , Katara,” Zuko thumbs at the pre-cum leaking steadily from his reddened shaft and swipes it down his length for more friction. “how do you want it, hm? Tell your sir exactly how you want him to fuck you when you get home.”

“Wan’ you to tie me up sir,” shivers rock through him as she gasps and gasps, greedy, shallow pants that tell Zuko she’s rapidly nearing her edge. “tie me up and put your mouth on me until I can’t take it anymore.”

Zuko groans, fucking up into his hand and reaching down to cup his sac in that firm, sure way that Katara always does. “What else, princess?”

“‘N then I’m going to beg you to _fuck_ me. ‘N you will, ‘cause you _like it_ when I beg, ‘n you’ll make that _sound_ that I like and—”

A low warning growl vibrates out of him, the sound heady with the desire to punish for the sneaky display of that bratty attitude. He should’ve known better to amuse at her; she always set out to rile him in retaliation.

“— _yeah. That_ one. _Tui — Z-Zuko_. I’m _close_.”

And played like a fiddle, a flash of white-hot pleasure sings from his scalp to his toes at the admission. A crescendoing string of curses falls out of Zuko’s mouth. The clever, clever girl knows exactly how to work him just as he works her.

“ _Sly little thing,_ ” Zuko coos the reprimand over a wrangled moan as his grip tightens reflexively on his cock. “if you wanted to cum for me you could’ve just said so. Wet your fingers, Kitten. Rub your clit — you know how. C’mon. _Z..._ ”

“ _U. K._ _Oh_ , yes. Yes _sir_ — _fu_ —” Katara says breathlessly, then, with a sharp, stuttered inhale: “ _Fuck_ , Zuko. I _miss you_.”

Zuko’s mind blanks blissfully for the longest of seconds, his throat tight as his breath catches in his lungs and his balls tighten. 

“I _know_ ,” he chokes out. Something dangerously close to pure _happy_ blooms behind his sternum. _Fuck,_ he’s going to spill soon. “Katara, I know. I _know_. Cum for me, princess.”

“ _Yes._ _Yes, I — mm!_ ” Katara lets out a soft, shuddering sigh, and he knows then that she is shaking around her own touch, arcing in a beautiful bow. “ _Zuko.”_

“ _Attagirl,_ ” Zuko praises, knees knocking apart as he rutts desperately into his fist, muscles pulled taut and sweat beading down his flushed chest. “such a good girl, just like I knew you’d be. Keep going, Kat. Keep fucking yourself for me.”

A gaunt, punched out gasp sends static down the line, and easily, Zuko can imagine Katara’s fingers hastily tracing the letters of his name over her quivering flesh.

“Zuko!” It comes out muffled through the phone, though not indistinguishable. “Please. Please. _Please_ , please, please—”

Breathtaking pleasure starts to seize him at the begging call. “C’mon, Kitten. You’re going to cum for me twice tonight.”

“— _Zuko_.”

He groans. “ _Say it again,_ ‘Tara.”

“ _Zuko_. Zuko—”

“ _Yeah_.”

“—Zuko, _Zuko—_ ”

“ _Yeah._ ” Zuko’s mouth runs ahead of him in the midst of the electricity gathering in his loins. “So good for me. My pretty little slut, aren’t you? Perfect for me, always perfect, always good—”

Katara lets out a choked off sob, the sound staggering into a throaty moan that sounds out loudly over the line. “I’m—” Katara cries airily, and he can imagine clearly the way her chest heaves with each shallow pant. The groan he lets out chases after the last of hers. “ _Tui and La,_ ” Katara curses. “ _I’m cumming,_ Zuko _._ ”

Zuko’s hips stutter, his satin sheets sticky and damp against his back as he braces himself against the bed and gives into the aimless, desperate fuck of his cock into his tightening fist.

Katara’s name rumbles past his lips, his orgasm ripping from him in long, hot strips of sticky white over his abdomen. Their breaths overlap, heavy gulps of air that gradually slow into an easy pattern, before quieting. 

“You okay, Kat?”

“‘M’good, swear. So good. Thank you, sir.”

Zuko grins, unable to get the mental image of her, beautiful, curled up in his sweater, soaked panties clinging to her sex and eyes lidded in satisfaction, out of his mind. “I bet you look so pretty right now,” he breaks the silence to tell her as much. “sitting there with my clothes half off and all blissed out.”

“La, I wanna kiss you,” Katara nearly slurs the whispered wish. Zuko lets out a quiet chuckle, unsurprised that she is already drifting off. “want you with me. Wanna kiss you _so_ bad.”

“I’m with you.” Zuko tells her, rumbly and thick with the full weight of his blinding affection. “Pull the blankets up, okay? I know you’re tired, sweet girl.” He says, refusing to keep her from rest. “Sleep now, hm?”

“Hn’kay.” Comes the tiny reply. “G’night, Zu.”

He smiles fondly. “Goodnight, Kat.”

Zuko waits until her breathing is sure and even before he ends the call, and his hand traces absently over the empty spot in his bed. With a sigh he rises leisurely from his rumpled sheets, thoughts whirring in circles as ambles toward his bathroom, then straying to the plate of food he’d left in the microwave as he cleans himself up. Another fond smile pulls at his mouth. Katara would have his head if she knew that he didn’t finish his food.

The affection he feels is followed swiftly by a longing ache.

 _Two more days_ , the words become a mantra. _Two more days_ , and then she’s all his.


End file.
